


The Devil's Daughter

by booitsbam



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16703863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booitsbam/pseuds/booitsbam
Summary: What if Angelo Bronte had a daughter?What if this daughter wanted to get away from her father's lifestyle and his constant surveillance over her?What if she started to develop on a crush on none other than Arthur Morgan?





	The Devil's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just getting back into writing so this may be a little rough. Sorry about that. If there's any mistakes, please tell me so I can fix them!
> 
> Inspired by an anon I received on tumblr:  
> "This may be a weird request but how about something for the reader being Bronte's daughter and her having a crush develop on Arthur? I feel like that's a cool idea and I'd write it but I suck at grammar and what all."

It’s dark out when you hear voices in the parlor room, which doesn’t surprise you. Your father’s mansion has workers and he tend to socialize with them often. However, the conversation you pick up on is what catches your attention.

You recognize your father’s voice immediately. He’s talking about the grave-robbers, and how they don’t pay a tribute to him for allowing them to do so. It sounds like he’s asking for these people to dispose of the robbers and get their money to give to your father. Of course. What more did you expect from him?

You walk off angry and silently up the stairs to the landing, crouching behind the railing to watch as two men walk out of that room. They were interesting looking men, nothing you typically see in town or in your home.

You watch as they walk out of the house, then go back to play with Jack, the child you were supposed to be entertaining. It isn’t too long before one of the workers comes to escort him downstairs. You smile at Jack as he waves at you then frown. You clean up the room quickly and rush to the landing as you watch another strange man take Jack’s hand and walk outside with him. It takes you a moment before you decide on your next move.

You run down the main stairs and out the door, ignoring your father’s worker’s yelling you name.

“Wait!” You plead as the three men and child walk to their horses, “Please wait!”

Jack turns his head and smiles, “Princess!” He looks at who you assume is his dad and lets go of his hand to run over to you.

You kneel to catch him in a hug, “Prince Jack!” You felt tears trickle in your eyes as you close them, but you joke to cover them up as you pull away to look at his face, “Leaving without a proper goodbye?”

“I’m sorry,” He says with a frown, “They wouldn’t let me come back up.”

“It’s okay, little one. We have our goodbye now,” You kiss his cheek and he put a hand on your cheek to swipe the tears away, “Forgive my tears. I’ll miss our tea parties terribly.”

He smiles, “I’ll ask Mama if we can write you letters!”

“That would be beautiful. Now, I think your family is waiting for you,” You give him one last hug before standing up and looking at the three men before bowing your head gently to look at the ground, “I apologize for my father’s distasteful business practices and for taking up your travel time. Please have a safe trip home.”

The man who walked Jack out of the house smiles at you, “Thank you, Ms. Bronte.”

Jack speaks up from his dad’s side, “That’s Princess to us!”

You laugh, “Prince Jack, only you call me Princess at tea parties, remember. To adults, I’m just simply Ms. Bronte,” You look back at the apparent leader with a gentle smile, “Now go before I make the rest of you stay for a tea party as well. I’m sure your family misses all of you. Good night.” You tilt your head down again before gliding back into the fenced area and turning to wave. You wait until they are a good few feet away before your smile drops and you sigh looking at the large house and walk in.

“Y/N!” You hear your father’s voice boom from the parlor room. You enter with your head down, “What have I said about running out of the house like that?”

“It’s not safe for me. But I wanted to say goodbye to Jack, I wasn’t given a chance before.”

“You know my business and what comes from it. It’s late, you need to go rest. Buona notte.”

“Buona notte, Papà.”

 

********

 

It’s at the mayor’s house that you see two of those men again. You see them on the balcony with your father, giving them a kind wave before returning to your friend. You enjoy yourself in some humble talk amongst yourself, though you did wonder why your father invited those men to the party. It doesn’t take long before you hear your father shout out some words in your native tongue, declaring his excitement to the guests’ deaths. You look up at your father with shock and distain, despite the fact of knowing how awful he is and that his behavior is usual. You sigh and shake your head up at him before briefly locking eyes with the fair-haired man. Your brunette friend soon calls your name, pulling your attention from the man to her, before teasing you about him.

“Oh, who is that handsome man up there with your father?” She laughs, “Is he a suiter? Is young Ms. Bronte finally getting married?”

“Forgive my harshness, Annie, but shut up. I don’t even know the man,” You look back up at the balcony to see the men had left your father and his company, “My father had his friend’s son, that one crazy old lady Papà deals with occasionally sent the boy to him. That man and two others showed up to get little Jack, and I guess my father has taken a likening to them.”

Your friend rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink, you follow suit, “That’s no fun. I wish you could hurry up and get away from all of that. The stress of it all can’t be good for the skin.”

The two of you laugh as she makes an over the top face to match the ridiculous comment she made, “You are too much, Ms. Fletcher.”

“You love me,” She smiles lovingly at you and glances over your shoulder at the stairs, “Don’t look now but handsome man is walking down the stairs.”

Despite her warning, you turn to look over your shoulder as well, “Oh,” you see him at the foot of the stairs, looking around. When his eyes meet yours, you dumbly send a small wave at him with a shy smile before turning back to face Annie, “I’m blaming you for anything that happens tonight.”

“Blame the booze, not me.”

“I’ve barely touched this glass to my lips.”

You feel a presence behind you before you finished your sentence, “Then I guess I grabbed this extra for no reason, Ms. Bronte.”

You shut your eyes before turning around with a smile, “Unlike my father, I’m not an alcoholic. Good to see you again, Mr.…? Forgive me, I didn’t catch the names of you or your associates the other night.”

“Arthur Morgan,” He nods down at you, “Good seein’ you too.”

Annie pipes up behind you with a laugh, “Well if little miss goody two shoes ain’t- forgive me-” She rolls her teal eyes, “Isn’t going to take that fluke, I sure will,” She takes the glass after she downs the one currently in hand, “Should I leave you two alone?”

You turn your head towards your friend with wide eyes, “There’s no need for that, Ms. Fletcher. Besides, I’m sure Papà is going to make me leave early as usual,” You say with a sigh, “And I hardly see you as it is, I don’t want to waste time without you.”

“Too bad,” She chuckles again before taking a large drink, “Hurry and get this one to put a ring on that finger.”

If your eyes weren’t wide before, they sure were now, “Annie!” You yelp as she walks away, “I don’t even know him!”

“Uh,” The blonde man stands awkwardly, “Don’t worry, afraid that if you’re tryin’ to flee from this life, mine ain’t no better.”

You look at him with a red face, “Please forgive my friend, she’s clearly drunk and not thinking right. Besides, I don’t know you, or your business practice. How could I possibly consider you for marriage? For all I know you could be in a similar business as my father and I would just become a mob wife and end up in the cemetery like my mother!”

Arthur clears his throat, “Ms. Bronte, would you like to go in the garden or somethin’? To get some quiet?”

Your rambling had your breathing uneven. You nod, knowing you would cry if you said anything, and he leads you into the silent garden away from the party, “I’m-”

“Hush,” He sits you two on a bench, “You ain’t gotta apologize, Ms. Bronte. You do that too much, yaknow?” You nod again, “What happened to your mother?”

You are confused at his kindness, all the other men you’ve been around before only cared for your connection to Angelo Bronte, money, or both. But you could tell that Mr. Morgan was being genuinely kind to you. You look at him with glossy eyes, “She was kidnapped by someone my Papà upset. He didn’t do as they asked, so they shot her. Left her body on the front porch, I was the one to find her.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” He gently touches your back for comfort, “Tell me what she was like.”

“She was beautiful,” You smile, “Papà always says I took after her beauty, but I don’t think so. She was like an angel, even how she treated people. She would sing me to sleep each night, I always tried to stay awake as long as I could because I loved her voice so much. Mamma was the kindest person I knew, and she saw good in everyone she met. Even in Papà,” You sigh and look down at your hands, “It’s funny to think her love and trust in him was the cause for her end.”

“She sounds lovely,” He leans down to look in your eyes, “I’m sure you’re followin’ in her footsteps. You seem kind enough.”

You laugh, “I’m hardly ever out of my room to be kind to anyone,” You unconsciously lean into Arthur with your head on his shoulder, “Papà has me followed constantly, even throughout the house, because he’s so paranoid what happened to Mamma is going to happen to me.”

If he was uncomfortable by you leaning on him, he didn’t show it. Instead he moved his arm to be around your shoulder, his hand rubbing your arm as a new way of comfort, “It’s a rough world, there’s no telling what could happen.”

“I can protect myself,” You lift your foot up and pull a knife out of your stocking ribbon to show your company before sticking back, “Carry this around with me. It isn’t much but it’s something.”

You feel the vibrations from his chest as he lets out a rough laugh, “If you get it quick enough, yeah, you could take someone down. Go for the neck.”

“Will do, Mr. Morgan,” You tilt your head up towards him, words on your lips die as you notice how close you are to him. You regain your dignity just enough to remember what you were going to say softly, “Thank you for talking with me. No one has ever done that for me before.”

He seems to notice your close proximity, his eyes bouncing between your own, “No problem,” His eyes dart down lower on your face before quickly returning to their previous spot, “Everyone needs someone to talk to.”

“Yeah,” You nod before fully regaining yourself and sitting up straight once again, “I-I apologize for that. It was inappropriate of me. Forgive me, Mr. Morgan.”

He lets out a silent laugh to himself, “It’s fine, kid.”

You turn towards him once again with a frown, “Why does every man call me ‘kid?’ I’ll have you know I am an adult, Mr. Morgan. It isn’t fair to call me what I am not.”

“Life isn’t fair, _Ms. Bronte_ ,” He snickers, “You want to get away from your dad, right? What’s the plan there?”

You look at your left hand, “Marriage. That’s why Annie said what she did earlier, marriage is my only way out without breaking Papà’s heart. He may be an awful person, but he is still my father,” You look at Arthur with a sad smile, “I must marry someone who isn’t involved in my father’s business practice. I always thought I’d get to marry for love like Mamma and Papà… but life isn’t fair.”

He pats your shoulder, “Doesn’t seem to be.”

You two sat in silence, returning to the previous position from before. You could hear the party still carrying on in the courtyard, but the party wasn’t what you were thinking about. You were thinking about the man whose arm was around your shoulder, could he help you leave your life behind? Your thoughts were cut short by another gruff voice.

“Arthur,” The dark hair man walks into the garden, “Come on,” The man notices you, “Ms. Bronte?”

You stand up with your hands in front of you and your head bowed, “Pardon me, sir. Forgive me for taking up Mr. Morgan’s time. I’m sure my father is searching for as well,” You look up to the blonde with a sweet smile, “Thank you again, Mr. Morgan, good night.” You nod at the other man, “You as well, sir. Have a safe trip home.” You walk out of the garden, not before turning your head slightly to look back at Arthur and waving like you did at the beginning of the party.

You may have just found a plan B to leaving your father’s business in the past if your marriage plan falls through.

 

********

 

Arthur watches as you walk out of the garden and back to the party. He wonders about what just happened, how you two were sitting together with you leaning on him. There was something about you that he couldn’t figure out. How did a mafia leader have such a sweet daughter?

Dutch’s voice interrupts his thoughts, “So, Ms. Bronte, huh?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I saw the way the two of you were sitting up on each other. I’m not sure her father would be too enthused with that though,” He let a scratchy laugh escape, “Can’t say I’m surprised you’d get sweet on her.”

The fair hair man rolls his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re implin’, Dutch.”

“She obviously likes you, too. No need to be embarrassed about it.”

“We just met tonight. There’s nothin’ there. She started gettin’ upset by somethin’ her friend said and I offered to take her away from the party so she didn’t make a scene. Didn’t want the kid to embarrass herself in front of those posh sons of bitches.”

“Well, I like her. She’d be an interesting addition to the gang as kind as she is. I’m sure she’s got some skill the camp needs. Maybe we can get her to run with us,” The leader jokes then nods his head towards the house, “You were meant to meet the mayor, not court Bronte’s daughter. Go on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Send more prompts to my rdr2 blog: missmollyoshea


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